


Can you build my house with pieces?

by starspectre



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, ghost au, they are all aready dead and no one actively dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspectre/pseuds/starspectre
Summary: Phil just wanted to move into a new house, he got a little more than just that
Comments: 6
Kudos: 90





	Can you build my house with pieces?

**Author's Note:**

> ghost au go brrrr and idk how to write stuff and finish them so have this unfinished thing  
> there is a playlist for it too
> 
> needless the say, dont share with the CC's, and keep it friendly in the comments
> 
> Ourbrain gang, have fun yelling at this once again :)

_I'm so sorry, I forgot you  
Let me catch you up to speed  
I've been tested like the ends of  
A weathered flag that's by the sea_

The light filters through the blinds, casting the shadows into the hallway Phil is standing in, having placed the last box next to the others.  
The move wasn’t as exhausting as he thought but he also knows that the worst part is yet to come, unpacking his stuff and placing it where it needs to be.   
Luckily his company gave him some extra days to move in, after he had pointed out that he still had days from the year before and gave them the ultimatum of the company having to pay him for the days or just give them now, they decided for the latter because it's easier than paying their employees.

He eyes the gift casket his coworker gave him before the move, it has a few bags of loose tea and several books he planned on getting, alongside a bottle of red wine the name he can't pronounce. Phil checks his phone for the time and decides that he will start unpacking once he has some food in him, grabbing his new house keys and scouting out where the next grocery store is.  
The walk to the store isn't that long and it's nice to get some exercise in instead of driving everywhere too, one of the reasons he chose this place, another was that it was surprisingly cheap for a freshly remade house, he didn't think of asking the real estate agent why.

The store was family owned and small but has all necessary items one would need in this area. Phil grabs the basic food he needs for the weekend, deciding he can do a proper grocery shopping once his kitchen is set up.

  
On his way back he gets greeted by his neighbor, a young man probably not older than 21 he guesses.   
“Hi! You are the guy who just moved in right? I’m Sam, living in the house on the left from you. Just wanted to say hi in person.” Sam goes off at him.   
“Hello, pleasure to meet you.” Phil manages out after the initial shock of being thrown into a conversation so soon with his neighbor.

They chat for a bit, mainly about how the general neighborhood is.  
Phil tunes out for a few minutes, focusing on the small shadow in his window, he comes back to Sam saying,   
“..yeah so it's pretty quiet here but that's half the charm of it, occasionally we do get together and have a grill evening. Feel free to join us sometime.”   
“Yeah sure, I will keep that in mind. Might check out why it smells like burned food,” he jokes and they depart with a handshake.   
Opening the door to his house he notices that it has a slight malfunction and resistance to it, he makes a mental note to get that checked out soon.   
  


He calls out softly, not because he is afraid, but something tells him that the shadows were maybe not his imagination. Phil checks the hallway again, seeing the jacket he had hung up in the corner, there it was, the cause for the shadow he realizes, just his jacket nothing special.  
He brings the grocery bags into the kitchen and sorts them in, alongside with things from the boxes. A couple hours later he finishes and sits down with a plate of food in his living room, TV running a comedy show in the background.

He hears a faint chuckle and looks up from the plate, his tv is now playing a commercial about a family having a trip to the caribic, he turns it off bitterly.  
It still stings, even after years.

Finishing the plate he gets up to place it in the sink, dealing with it the next day, he still needs to get his office set up.

Phil spends the next hours working around his cable management and the fact that he didn't buy enough power strips for all the things he has, by the time he has a somewhat usable setup it's well into the night and the wood floor creaks from the cold creeping in from the outside.  
Tired from the day he heads into the bathroom downstairs and frowns, his mirror having a smiley face drawn on it, rubbing his eyes and turning the light on he decides that his mind is playing tricks on him, there isn't a smile anymore and the hum of the ceiling lamp is the only thing that can be heard.

He brushes his teeth with heavy eyes and gets ready to collapse into his bed, falling asleep pretty quick.  
  
 _Birds are chirping and he stands next to a bench, watching over two people, one of them appearing to be somewhere between 15 and 17, the other is somewhere around 17 and 19 he assumes, humming along to a song that plays on a lonely beaten up jukebox. In the distance he can see two young men sparing and shouting at each other, he looks around and admires the view the way the lanterns still give of a soft light in the sunset, the jukebox finishes the song and a guitar transitions smoothly from it, the sounds carries from his right and he follows it. Seeing a young man sitting under a tree with a sheep next to him grazing nearby, humming softly a melody that feels awfully familiar._

He wakes up with an arch in his chest that he chooses to ignore, he sits up and stretches out the sleep in his shoulders. Phil is grateful that he still has two more days before he has to start his work again. He drops back into the pillow and grabs his phone from the nightstand, checking his social media and chuckling at a few pictures his coworker send him, a ‘we miss you already in the office’ with a over dramatic sad face and a bunch of small snippets of his chaotic team during lunch. He is however grateful that he can work from home now, his knees made it harder each time he had to climb the stairs and with the elevator never working.

Getting up because his knee was protesting finally of being in the same position for the past hours he swears he hears a faint

‘awake’ 

‘quiet!’ 

‘both of you shut the heck up’

it appears to be coming from the walls but he chose to ignore that too, for his own well being. A new house always feels weird the first few days right?

He gets the kettle ready and shuffles to turn on the radio, when he returns he sees the loose tea already opened and portioned next to the mug in a tea strainer 

“Okay, seems like I really needed the break.” he mutters under his breath, he fills his mug with water and a bit of sugar, not enough to make his dentist annoyed with him but just enough to enhance the taste of the tea.

Again he hears the faint chuckle and a soft “he seemed tired.”  
This time he is sure it's from behind him and he almost trips turning around to look into his hallway, sure enough there is a young man standing in front of him, wearing a long worn out coat and a beanie.

“Who the fuck are you?” Phil asks, startling the young man.

“Wait what- you can see us?” the young man replies in shock back, appearing to _flicker_ in his appearance.

“Sure can, now who are you…. wait, us?!” Phil feels dread crawl into his bones, not even a day and his house already got broken into.  
“Oh.” comes softly from the young man, “You cant see him.” he states and tilts his head. The gentle smile is making Phil obviously uncomfortable.   
“We-, oh goodness where are my manners-” the man suddenly speaks and walks into the kitchen, standing in the light from the window he appears to be even more transparent.

“Good day sir, I’m Wilbur Soot. I’v been here since…..ever actually.” he smiles and reaches out his hand.  
Phil carefully takes his hand and pulls it back then it not only goes through Wilbur’s hand but also the cold it emits.

  
Phil also just now notices the torn hole in the light brown sweater, how he didn't notice it sooner with the size it has is something he doesn't have the patience to freak out over when there is a ghost? spectre? in front of him.

“So,” Phil starts carefully, “there are more here?” he asks, unsure how to take all of this in.

“Yes! There is Techno, Tommy, Tubbo and uh, well…. we don't know about the last fella, he seems quite nervous and shy to be honest.” Wilbur rattles off and fixes his coat.

Phil just stares, there are over three people in his house and he hasn't noticed it once.  
“But we aren't here to harm, we are always here.” wilbur starts again.

“It’s been so long since we got last noticed.” the young man mutters, looking down. Phil fights the urge to give him a hug.  
“Why can I see you then?” he asks equally quietly, careful not to break whatever seems to hold the other here.

“I don’t know, none of us do really.” Wilbur replies, shifting, starting to fade more. His chest seems to rise and fall quicker, then he is gone the next time Phil blinks.  
“What the fuck.” he whispers and holds onto the counter, tea forgotten behind him.

The rest of the day Phil ends up pausing the radio occasionally everytime he thinks he hears the voice of wilbur. It seems so surreal but at the same time real that this is infact a thing, ghosts. He doesn't spend time to freak over it, he has boxes to unpack and furniture to arrange properly.

Late into the night, after finishing the living room and eating dinner Phil is doing the dishes, he turns to grab the pan then he sees a tall man next to him and almost slams himself into the chair from jumping.  
“Who-”   
“Techno, Wilbur already mentioned me.” the monotone voice announces and he holds out the pan. Phil eyes the pan and then back to Techno, when he reaches for it the hand seems solid, not transparent like Wilburs did earlier.   
“And what do you want?” Phil asks, slowly sinking the pan into the water.   
“Next question, I didn't think you would stay here, Wilbur can be quite something the first time.” Techno hums, handing Phil another dish to clean.

“Well, certainly woke me up yeah.” Phil laughs nervously, the fact that he appears to be talking with a ghost, he has no other name for it, it's something he didn't think he would be doing.

“Ah. yeah.” the other nods, brushing his hair out of his face.  
Phil finishes the rest of the dishes in silence, neither he or Techno having anything to say to each other.   
By the time Phil is done, Techno has left in favor of reading the newspaper that was on the kitchen table, it's 9 pm.   
“Hey, Techno.” Phil calls out carefully. He gets a grunt of acknowledgement back.   
“How are the other two?” he asks, might as well learn about the rest of the people he has a shared space with.   
“Tommy and Tubbo? They are loud sometimes, playing catch or messing with the books of the people who live in this house. What else to expect from children.” he shrugs, not looking up despite Phil staring at him.   
“C-children?” Phil stutters, what the fuck.   
“Yes. Children, different parents though, judging by their appearance.” Techno comments and sets the paper down, stretching his long legs out and getting up from the couch.   
“But, I think that's enough info about us.” he continues and waves his hand, fading into short lasting smoke, for a second Phil thought of the fire alarm going off but apparently that’s not affecting it at all.   
Phil sighs, this is too much to deal for him and he just wants to enjoy his free last day tomorrow, cue the wine he got from his company.   
He settles on his couch, careful not to sit where Techno sat, in case he comes back, or any of the others for that matter.

He falls asleep shortly, not noticing the gentle hands that drape the comforter over him, the softly spoken “sleep well” or the way the wine bottle and glass is getting placed on the table.

Instead he wakes up to two young voices bickering in the kitchen, something about bacon needs to be crisp and scrambled eggs are supposed to be done well and not a half liquid mess.  
He assumes this has to be the duo Techno mentioned the night before.   
Phil sits up, wrapping the blanket closer around him and follows the noise into the kitchen.   
“Hello!” Wilbur greets him with a bright smile and a tea mug filled with tea.   
“Tommy and Tubbo I assume.” Phil replies and looks at the two younger people.   
“Uhm, actually Ranboo and Tubbo.” the taller replies quietly, he seems more nervous now, barely having a solid appearance now.   
The shorter one beams at Phil.   
“Woah Wilbur was right then he said we can be seen. cool.”   
“What did you think I was lying about?”   
“The last time you said that it was only you who got seen.”

Wilbur just nods at that.  
“yeah fair.”   
Phil glances at the eggs sizzling in the pan.   
“You’re making breakfast.” he states, slightly confused but also appreciating the gesture.   
“Yep! I mean, we don't really need to eat anyways.” Tubbo shrugs and for a split second Ranboo flickers away completely.   
“We, uh, sorry if you needed them for something else…?”   
“Nah it's okay.” Phil waves it off and finally takes the mug from Wilbur.

Ranboo turns to stir the eggs some more and, accidently dropping the spatula.

“Aw man, don't worry, it's okay.” Tubbo says and gets the spatula meanwhile ranboo mutters an apology, deciding to leave the cooking to the others instead.  
“If, if you don't mind me asking, how come some of you can be like….solid and others not?” Phil asks the question that has been on his mind since Techno handed him the pan the day before.   
“Oh, uhm-” Tubbo starts, looking unsure.   
“it depends on how much we can focus ourself into being stable, being a ghost is kinda exhausting.”   
Phil nods, yeah that somehow makes sense.   
“It also kinda depends how long we have been, uh…..yeah.” Wilbur doesn't finish his sentence, noticing how ranboo flickers more aggressively now.   
Phil only can guess what Wilbur was gonna say, he looks over to the two younger ones, they surely couldn't be less than 17 years old and his heart breaks a little.   
“Well, not saying no to a breakfast.” he says and joins Ranboo at the kitchen table, he watches the other two easily take over the cooking, seemingly being used to it.   
“There is the rest? Also if I'm asking too many questions please tell me, I don't wanna be too nosy.” Phil says after a while of weirdly comfortable silence.   
Wilbur laughs and turns to Phil.   
“This is your house, ask away.”   
Its Tubbo answering the question,   
“We can leave the house, like, we aren't bound to it or anything, although it takes more energy to do so. There is also the factor of like, how stable we are if that makes sense.” Tubbo launches into a whole monologue about what affects their wellbeing even as a ghost and Phil listens, occasionally glancing at Ranboo, the young man appears to have trouble and Phil gently interrupts Tubbo’s speech.   
“Ranboo, right? Do you perhaps wanna sit down instead? It might be easier then standing next to the oven.”   
Ranboo, being startled by the sudden call, looks at him like a deer in a headlight.   
“Oh uh, no it's fine. Thank you for the offer though sir.” he replies quickly, tripping over his words a little. Phil did not like the way Ranboo seemed to force out the sir.   
“Okay, if you change your mind just say a word.”   
  


The other just nods, stepping out of Tubbos way to let him put the finished food on the table.  
“there we go, for once not burned food.” he grins at Wilbur who just claps.   
“Well done, Proud of you!” Wilbur grins back.   
Phil eats his breakfast in peace, he thinks of how Ranboo seems nervous about, well everything, he also wonders if him being so…..unstable in his ability means that he recently died, if so he feels bad for him.   
Judging by the way Wilbur and Techno can be solid for longer than Tubbo, Ranboo and assumingly also Tommy, although he hasn't met the ghost yet that means they are the oldest. He still doesn't understand why he can see them, sure there have been stories about people seeing ghosts of the loved ones but he never knew anyone looking close to how these people look.   
The sudden shout from another person pulls him back and there is suddenly a blond young boy standing in the kitchen, looking between Wilbur, Tubbo and him.   
“Hi?” Phil goes and looks over the younger one.   
“Hello, wait wait wait, you really can see everyone?” the younger immediately launches into the topic.   
“It seems so yeah.” Phil replies only and is taken aback by the volume this kid has.

“Whoa, that's pretty swell.” the blond goes and starts talking about something he saw outside to Tubbo and Wilbur.  
Phil watches them, despite looking so different, solely based on their clothes, they seem pretty close.   
Wilbur slides a small note over to Phil during the conversation.   
_That's Tommy, he and Tubbo are best friends already :) - Ranboo_

Phil hasn't noticed that the tall ghost has disappeared and felt a small pang of guilt for it, the poor lad probably got overwhelmed by the amount of people in the room.  
He looks over at Wilbur who just gives him a small wink, continuing the conversation with Tubbo and Tommy.   
“Hey, perhaps you should tell the new house owner who is living with him?” he gently reminds the blond who looks a little embarrassed.   
“Oh shoot you’re right, I’m Tommy!” the kid goes and Phil is surprised by how energized he seems to be. He also cant help to think of how they all died, when again he has a wild guess already for Wilbur. He is not going to ask for confirmation, he decides, after all who wants to talk about their death in the afterlife.   
Wilbur seems to see what he is thinking, offering him a slight smile.   
“Hello Tommy, I feel like i should introduce myself to all of you now.”   
Phil replies, pushing his finished plate away.   
“I’m Phil, I work as a video editor for a company,” he pauses, do they know what that is he wonders, judging by the look of Wilbur he at least doesn't.   
“And uh, I like reading and history?” he concludes the rest. It's not much about himself but it doesn't exactly feel needed to be talked about why he is working from home.   
“You also have excellent taste in tea.” Wilbur comments.   
He laughs at that, “Thank you.”   
He also notices the slight appearance of Ranboo again, standing in the shadows of the living room. He learns about them throughout the coming weeks.   
He learns that Ranboo doesn't like anything resembling long ropes, learns that Wilbur sometimes hides in the arctic and the only sound is a guitar eerily playing from there, he comes back looking more like a skeleton than a transparent ghost.   
Tommy hates loud sudden noises, even more on celebratory days.   
Tubbo has trouble reading, says the words sometimes seem to float across the page. Techno seems to be the only one who is not bothered by anything, thats until Phil walks into the living room late at night and sees his face buried into the plush blanket while a documentation about old greece is playing in the background and hears a quiet muffled “I miss my family Wilbur” from the tall man. Wilbur is silently combing through Technos hair.   
The group of ghosts learn also about Phil, then he wakes up at night, stifling his terrified scream, caused by nightmares of things he doesn't dare to mention aloud, into the pillow, turning into sobs when gently hands rub over his back comforting him.   
They also learn about his quickly forming friendship with Sam, the persistent neighbor who gently reminded him of the grill evening, turns out Sam is older than Phil guessed it. The young man is mid twenty, talking about his previous job as a prison guard but hated the way it treated the inmates so he left to work at the flower shop near the grocery store.

Occasionally one of the ghosts would be the one who wakes up, even though they don't have to sleep in the first place, remembering something from their past.

First time was Tubbo, the sobbing sounded like tires screeching and it startles Phil out of his sleep so badly he almost falls out of it, when he finds Tubbo in the small room upstairs in front his office Phil didn't regnorize the kid at first, the usually appearance being clean is now dark murky brown rust looking, with his clothes torn and a nasty looking injury going over the left side of the body. Phil comforted him, telling him he is fine and that it's just a bad dream. They both know it's a lie but it helps Tubbo calm down, the next morning Phil feels like he hasn't slept at all.  
Weeks pass until the next one has a nightmare, its Ranboo this time, Phil gets woken up by Wilbur rushing into his room, letting several small trinkets shake and manipulating the alarm clock so it blares at 3 instead of 7.   
He barely has time to even register what Wilbur says before getting dragged out of his bed, urgency making Wilbur look like he is losing his own life again, and maybe he is, Phil's brain supplies.   
Ranboo appears to be choking, clawing at his neck while his chest is heaving in attempt to get air into his lungs, the shadow from the wall divider makes it look like he has two different faces, one bright and shining white, moonlight reflecting but also shining through him, and the shadow casting him in complete darkness. Yet the terror is written all over the face of the teen.

Phil is struggling for comforting words, how do you comfort someone that is already dead and even chose his own death. He decides on the blanket Ranboo seems to be fond of, the softness bringing him slightly down to reality and the gentle pressure of phils hand on his back bringing him back completely.  
  
Wilbur stays in the doorway, himself flickering in and out of existence. The others are staying away, too worried about setting off the still young ghost.   
Phil learns the next morning what they meant with setting him off.   
Ranboo is all sharp edge and snarling, anger vibrating off him like a rainless thunder in summer, the morning ritual of Ranboo leaving a smiley was a marcarbe one this time. a simple ‘I remember, I don't want to remember’ scrawled next to it.   
It breaks Phils heart to see the teen like this for the entire week.   
Techno offers comfort where he can, telling Phil that sometimes, ghosts forget how they died and having to come to terms with it hurts a lot.   
It makes sense to Phil, the feeling of remembering something you desperately want to forget only to be crushed by it again.   
  
It takes Ranboo several weeks to calm down from this knowledge, he learns to control his anger at himself, learns how to be able to look at himself and not startle at the dark bruises wrapping around his neck, the last bit takes him months.

Winter is around the corner and Phil feels dread crawling along side it, the last two years he spend it alone along with a bottle of Eggnog.

This time, the two youngest of the ghosts are able to manifest longer by the sheer amount of excitment they feel about this holiday.

Phil cant bring himself to not put up a little decoration at least, he sees Sam do the same, laughing at the way they both have the same decoration and joking about sharing the same brain.  
  
Sam is visiting now, promised he would bring some food over and join Phil for company during the holidays since they are both alone and no one should be alone when everyone else seems to be with someone.   
Phil is grateful for it, the ghosts are too even though they aren't showing themself to Sam.   
  
New Years eve rolls around, and they all huddle together on Phils couch, Tommy spends the night clinging to whoever hasn't gotten a tired arm of him clinging to their arms. Phils only complaint, jokingly, is that he feels cold with them surrounding him. They end up falling asleep before the clock strikes midnight, the next morning is greeting Phil with peaceful quiet safe for birds chirping, there is music playing from the tv still running, when the timer hits the limit it turns off and Wilbur starts playing a gently melody from the arctic.   
He hears Techno and Tommy bicker about the right way to make scrambled eggs, again.   
  
Phil could get used to this he realizes. It’s nice, peaceful, he also realizes that he hasnt had a nightmare in a long time.

_We talked about making it  
I'm sorry that you never made it  
And it pains me just to hear you have to say it  
You knew the game and played it_

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is a little too fast and i know it but its all i could manage since i write things in one sitting or not at all, peak adhd am i right?
> 
> the playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7MtanU8UhEWTbembZIeGfi?si=LlP5FwVlQlGXeJRONnFnfw
> 
> cry to me about this on tumblr (vultures-perched-on-the-roof) or twitter (vultereroof)
> 
> Funfact: this is the longest ive ever written for a fic


End file.
